All Things Good
by Javalass
Summary: A Trory Fic with a dash of L/L and a sprinkling of other characters **COMPLETE**
1. A Rainy Day

"Luke, send over a cheeseburger and fries," said Lorelai plopping herself across from her daughter. "And also, I dunno, some sort of beverage.  I suppose coffee will do," she added nonchalantly.

"You suppose, do you?" he answered from the counter. "You know, every sip of your beloved coffee has effects on your bowel movements.  It . . ."

"Stop right there, Luke," said Lorelai holding up her hand. "Any sentence with the words _bowel movements _in it has got to be bad for business."

 "I was just going to say that it relaxes the rectal muscles . . ."

"Aaahhhh. Lalalalalala," said Lorelai loudly, covering her ears with her hands.

Luke walked over to her table, crossed his arms across his chest and stared patiently at her until her wailing stopped.

"Did I just win that round?" he addressed Rory.

"Unlikely.  It may appear that way at first. And I can see how you may be led into thinking that you have won that round, however . . ."

"Luuuuke?" said Lorelai, a small smile playing upon her lips.

"Yes, oh-unbelievably-insane woman?"

"I still want my coffee.  Only you better cancel my cheeseburger and fries.  Can't have bowel movements if there's nothing to move, ya know?"

"Fine."

"Fine?"

"Fine."

"Good."

Luke walked back to his counter.

"Score: Lorelai 58; Luke 0," said Rory.

"Only 58?" Lorelai frowned.

"58 so far this month," Rory elaborated.

"Aah."

"Here's your liquid laxative," said Luke plonking an extra large mug of steaming coffee in front of her.

"Wow, didn't even have to ask for the extra large mug," said Lorelai.

"Well savour it because you will NOT be getting a refill," he said walking away.

"Who wants a refill when you have an extra large mug?" she said to the retreating plaid-covered back.

Luke had done the math beforehand.  Each extra large mug could house one and a half of the amount of coffee that a normal mug could hold.  Since Lorelai usually only had one refill per visit, he was secretly depriving her of a quarter of her regular dosage.

*Lorelai 57; Luke 52* Luke thought to himself.

He was catching up.

"Hey Mary," said Tristan perching himself on the corner of Rory's desk.  "Coming to class early, I see.  Couldn't wait to see me, huh?"

Rory peered over her novel to see Tristan examining the blurb on the back of her book.

"Yeah, that's it," she replied. "Two whole days without you.  I couldn't stand being away from you a second more than necessary. Why, oh why were weekends invented?  Is there some weekend god who takes pleasure in mocking me?  Don't even get me started on the god of public holidays.  He's just plain cruel."

"I knew it."

"Sarcasm is lost on you, isn't it?"

Tristan gave her his trademark smirk as the bell rang and students started coming in.  He quickly took the seat next to her.

Tristan was on the second week of his four rotations.  Week one was when he sat directly behind her, the best position to admire her hair, and sometimes her neck if she tied her hair back. This week's position, where he placed himself so that she sat between him and the window, was good to catch wafts of her perfume as the occasional breeze came through.  This was also the prime position to smirk at her from without drawing the attention of the teacher.  Week three's position was diagonally behind her where he could stare at her profile unnoticed by her.  The forth position was the seat directly in front of her.  In this position Rory would be forced to look directly at his back for forty-minute periods, with no escape.  He would sometimes put his hands behind his head and lean back in his chair or swing on the hind legs of his chair and rest his elbows on her table in the forth week position.

Today though, there was no breeze.  The air was annoying still.  In the last class of the day the rain started.

Tristan spotted her sitting in at the bench at the bus stop with no umbrella, getting rained on.

He looked at his watch.  Rory's bus wasn't due for another ten minutes.  He pulled up in front of her in his Beemer and lowered the window at the passenger seat.

"Mary, what are you doing?" he yelled at her over the rain.

"I like the rain," she replied.

"Get in."

"What?" she yelled back, thinking she must have misheard.

"Get in," he repeated. "I'll drive you home."

"Why?" she asked in disbelief.

"Because it's raining and you're getting wet and I have a nice warm DRY car."

"No thanks, I'll wait for the bus."

"Rory if you don't get in here in the next five seconds I'm reversing and going to spray you with that nice big muddy puddle of water over there in the process."

She hesitated before opening the car door and scrambling in, trying to transfer as little water from her clothes to the upholstery as possible.

"Thanks, but you know I live, like, a half an hour away from here right?" she said.

"I'll take you anywhere you want to go," he paused for a second. He caused sense Rory tensing up at his change in tone. "Except for Canada.  I don't like how they talk.  It's not right I tell ya."  His heart lifted at the sight of the smile tugging at the corner of Rory's mouth and he relaxed.

"Luuuke," said Lorelai, coming into the diner.

"Insane womaaaaan," he said, mimicking her tone.

"Coffee please," she said, taking off her coat and taking a stool at the counter.  "And a muffin.  Double chocolate."

He placed a regular sized mug in front of her and started to pour.

*Wow, no lecture today?* she thought to herself.

"Why don't you try blueberry for once? Or apple cinnamon.  Why always chocolate?" he started.

"Aaah, you were saving the energy for the muffin lecture," she said understanding.

"Pardon?"

"_Par_don?  Since when do you say pardon?"

"Since you said something about a muffin lecture and I said 'Pardon.'"

"Well why do you stock chocolate muffins if you don't actually sell them?" she asked.

"I sell them to everyone else, just not you," he answered.

"Luuuke."

"Not this again."

"Pleeease?"

He relented but he didn't smile as he relented.

*Lorelai 59; Luke 0* Lorelai thought.

*Lorelai 57; Luke 53* He had given her decaf.

"I can't believe you missed my exit!" said Rory as they navigated their way through unknown streets in the believed direction of Stars Hollow.

"I can't believe you made me miss your exit," Tristan retorted. "I thought you would tell me when to get off the freeway."

"Well, I assumed you saw all those signs.  You know the ones, "Stars Hollow 5miles." "Stars Hollow 2 miles." "Stars . . .""

"Alright, I get it," he said taking a right, knowing it would take them further away from Stars Hollow.

The truth was, he thought half an hour alone was Rory Gilmore was not long enough.  So he took it upon himself to ignore all exit signs and plough hopelessly through a maze of unfamiliar streets.

"It's okay, I got it covered," he said.  "Relax."

"Relax? Tristan that's the same gas station we passed five minutes ago."

"Really? Are you sure about that?"

"Yes, now can we please stop and ask for directions?  I'd like to get home before menopause comes along." Rory blushed at her own remark and noticed the smirk on Tristan's face.

"Just shut up," she said.

"I didn't say anything," he said holding his arms up in mock exasperation.

"Hey, keep your hands on the wheel," she said leaning over him to grab the abandoned steering wheel.

Tristan revelled in the sweet perfume of Rory's shampoo that he was deprived of earlier.  One of her elbows was currently digging into his stomach but he didn't feel it.  Reluctantly he took control of the car again.

"Hey, that's Jackson's truck," Rory said pointing to the vehicle that had just pulled out of the gas station. "Follow it."

"Aye, aye ma'am," said Tristan turning the wheel.

"How many days until the weekend?" Lorelai asked Sookie.

"Four if you don't count today," she answered.

"Great, that means three until dooms day."

"Dooms day?" Sookie questioned.

"Dinner with Emily."

"Aahh. Say no more. Here, try this.  New recipe," said Sookie, offering a spoon of thick red liquid to her friend.

"Mmmm that is amazing," said Lorelai, licking her lips. "Who needs sex when you have . . .?"

"Neapolitan sauce," Sookie filled in.

"You're kidding me. _That _is Neapolitan sauce?"

"Uhuh.  It's made from Jackson's hybrid tomatos."

"Hybrid with what, exactly?"

"I'm not sure. I think he said carrots. Isn't he amazing?" she gushed.

"Ooh yeah.  Definitely.  He should be touring with David Copperfield. He is _that_ amazing."

"I know, isn't he?"

"Ok turn right at Monty," she told Tristan, pointing to the rooster statue.

He raised an eyebrow but put his indicator on all the same.

"It's the one with the porch swing," she said unclasping her seat belt.

He pulled into her driveway and pulled up the handbrake.

"Well, thanks again Tristan," she said reaching over to get her backpack from the backseat.  She put her hand on the door handle when she felt Tristan's hand pull her back.

"What a minute Mary.  Where's my thankyou kiss?"

Rory smile and for a second Tristan thought she might actually kiss him. Instead she reached in her pocket and pulled out a Hershey Kiss. "Thank you and here's your kiss.  See you tomorrow."

She placed the kiss in his hand, her fingertips brushing his palm and she released the candy.  They both quickly pulled back from the touch.

She exited the car and Tristan watched as she ran through the rain to her porch.  He waited until she went into her house before pulling out of the driveway.


	2. Friends

"Okay, your daughter or your coffee," said Luke with Rory in one hand and a pot of coffee in the other.

Lorelai didn't answer. She looked from the pot of coffee to Rory, and then back to the coffee.

"Mom, you shouldn't have to think about this. The fact that you are is just wrong."

Lorelai twisted her mouth and burrowed her eyebrows in concentration. Her eyes were lingering on the coffee.

"MOM, I'm your only daughter!"

"Oh ok, I pick Rory," she answered dejectedly.

"Gee, thanks Ma."

"You'll be doing the laundry for a week, you know that, don't you?" said Lorelai, putting her arm around her daughter.

"Hey kittens," said Sookie, walking into the dinner and taking a stool next to them.

"What can I get you?" Luke asked her.

"Nothing just yet, thanks Lu . . ." Sookie paused as she spotted Lorelai making eye movements towards the coffee pot behind the counter.  "On second thoughts, I'll have a coffee."

Lorelai subtly nudged Sookie's thigh with her elbow.

"Make it and extra large cup."

Another nudge.

"Two please. I'm really thirsty."

"You're doing this for _her_, aren't you?" Luke confronted her.  Sookie leaned back from Luke's wrath.

"N. .nno I'm not, I was just . . .well, you see . . .I was going to . . .tea please," Sookie relented.

"I gotta get some tougher friends," said Lorelai shaking her head as Luke set out to make the tea.

"Sorry, sweetie," Sookie apologised.

"Not your fault. Luke's being particularly mean today. His cap must be on too tight."

 "You know I have ears," said Luke.

"Well they obviously don't work, otherwise you would be hearing the pleading of a desperate lady in need of coffee."

"Oh, is that what that was?"

"Luke, c'mon. Do it for me?" Rory pleaded. Lorelai gave a fierce nod of her head in agreement. "I'm the one that has to put up with her when she goes home."  
"Heyyy," Lorelai said in objection.

"Okay, but this is the last cup I'm giving you today," said Luke, placing Sookie's tea down and reaching for the coffee.

Lorelai clapped her hands giddily.

"And all is right with the world," she said taking the first chug.

"I love you Luke," said Rory.

*Right words, wrong Gilmore* Luke thought to himself.

"And how are we on this beautiful morning?" Tristan asked leaning up against the locker next to Rory's.

"What's so beautiful about it? It's cold and raining and smells like Streptococcus . . ."

"Aah, the ever-cynical Rory."

"Rory?"

"Sorry, I mean Mary," Tristan corrected.

"You _do _like to test my patience, don't you?"

"I try my bestest," he said with a shrug of the shoulders.

"Is bestest a word?" Rory asked doubtfully.

"Sure it is." 

"Isn't it good, better, best?"

"Then best, bester, bestest," Tristan reassured her.

"Ahh, of course. What was I thinking?"

"Well, I could tell you what I was thinking, but then you'd blush like a ten year old before walking away from me . . ._again_."

Rory started to feel the red seep into her cheeks.

"Oh, and we have a winner, ladies and gentlemen," he said turning around and pretending to announce it to the world.

He turned back to see a look of seething dislike on Rory's face.

"Sorry," he said quietly.

The look of dislike was quickly replaced by a look of confusion.

"What?" said Tristan.

"You said sorry."

"So I did, and may I congratulate you on being the first to acknowledge this historical moment."

"Are we friends?"

"Pardon me? Did I hear the F word?" said Tristan with mock horror.

"Tristan, I'm serious. Are we friends?" she repeated.

He looked into her eyes, which looked so blue and serious.  He smiled at her and sighed to himself.

"Yeah, we're friends," he finally answered, brushing a stray hair away from her face. "And as friends," he pushed on, " I'd like _you_ to accompany _me_ in a _friendly _walk through the mall after school."

"The mall?"

"Yeah, well I have to buy a present for my cousin's wedding. I thought maybe you could help me pick one out."

"And just what would I get out of this deal?"

"Quality time with yours truly of course," he said. Then seeing this argument wasn't going to win her over, "And I'll take you to Barnes and Nobles and buy you a book."

He could see Rory considering this and arguing the pros and cons in her head.

"And coffee," he added as a last effort.

"Deal," she said slamming her locker shut. "I'll meet you here after school."

At lunchtime Tristan saw her at her usual table, eating alone, with her head buried in some outrageously thick book. At the end of English class he had invited her to come sit with him and his friends at lunchtime. She had cringed and refused, saying thanks all the same.  He hadn't been hurt. He'd more or less expected her not to want to sit in the presence of his friends and didn't blame her for preferring the solitude.

"So where to first?" said Rory as they entered through the glass doors of the mall.  

"I dunno, what do you get for people who are getting married?"

"You mean you don't know?"

Truthfully, his mom always bought the presents on behalf of their family. And while she didn't ask Tristan to buy the gift, he had thought it would be the perfect excuse to spend more time with Rory.

"Yeah, well I've never had to buy a gift on behalf of our family before," he admitted. "I'm not sure what's appropriate."

"Something expensive, I guess," she said, considering his family's financial status.  Had it been from her family it would probably be a stale box of poptarts and a coffee machine to which there would be no instructions, hence the giving _away_ of the godly device in the first place.

They went to an antique store, a jewellery store, a homewares store, and then a GAP store for a break.

"Hey, how about crystal?" Rory suggested. "My Grandma always says you can never have too much crystal."

"There's that place near the drugstore that sells crystal," Tristan said, taking Rory's hand to lead her in the direction. Although Rory was surprised by the touch of his warm soft hands and the feeling it evoked in her, that wasn't the reason she didn't move.

"What's wrong?" Tristan asked.

Rory looked longingly at the Starbucks that was just visible behind the palm trees that lined the centre of the mall.

Tristan followed her gaze and smile.

"Ok, Mary, we'll get you your coffee."

Rory squealed in delight and led the way over, Tristan ogling at the pace she set.

AN: Ahhh, I have to go to work so I must end it here for now!  The next instalment will be coming soon to a cinema near you. Spoiler: In the next part I plan to get rid of Dean. Muahahahahaha! Oh yeah, feedback would be really good right now.  Let me know if u have any ideas. This is my first fanfic so be kind!!


	3. Whipped cream

"I'll get the coffee, you get the table," Tristan said as they entered the busy Starbucks establishment.

Rory spotted a couple vacating a booth and quickly headed towards it. She sat down and took out her cell phone.

*I hope Dean wasn't waiting for me at the bus stop*

"Hello, Dean?"

"Hey, Ror. Where were you today?"

"I had to stop by the mall. Sorry," she apologised.

"Well, will you be home soon?"

"I don't know. Another hour or two, I suppose," she answered.

"Hey, can you hold on a sec? I had someone on the other line," Dean said.

"Sure."  
Beep

"Hey, Nanc. So are you coming over or what?  Rory's in Hartford, so we've got the afternoon to ourselves."

"Dean?" Rory's voice quavered.

"Oh, shit! Ror?" came Dean's reply.

Anger took over and she hung up.

"Okay, I've got one super-sized iced mocha with extra whipped cream for you, and a cappuccino for moi," said Tristan, placing each beverage on the table. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"It's Dean," her bottom lip trembled. "He . . .he . . ."

She burst into tears.

"Hey, hey, shhhh," he said in a comforting voice.  He slid in beside her, placing his arms around her shoulders.  She turned towards him, buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed.

He stroked her hair reassuringly until the crying stopped and she pulled away.

"You okay?"

"Better," she replied, sniffing. "Sorry about your shirt," she said, noticing the wet patches she left.

He waved his hand as to say, 'Don't worry about it."

The phone rang and Dean's number flashed on the screen.

"Want me to get rid of him?" Tristan asked her.

"No, it'll just make things worse," she said. She picked up the phone and turned it off.

"I'll take you home," he said, moving out of the booth.

She took his hand and gently pulled him back.

"Do you mind if we just talk for a while? I don't really feel like going home just yet."

He slid into the seat opposite her this time.

"So what did you want to talk about?" he asked her after taking a sip from his coffee.

She unexpectedly laughed. He gave her a confused look.

"You have a foam moustache," she explained. She leaned over the table and whipped Tristan's upper lip with her thumb. Then she flicked the foam at him.

He blinked at the foam that landed on his nose before swiping the whipped cream from Rory's drink and making a nice long streak down her nose.

"Hey, you just wasted perfectly good cream!" she cried indignantly.

Under normal circumstances he would have made some movement to lick the cream off.

"Well, you _could_ try to lick your nose, you know," he said instead.

"Me and whose tongue?" she said rhetorically.

Again Tristan held back another smart comment.

Her tongue stuck out and tried to reach the mass of cream on her nose but it didn't get close.  Tristan watched on with interest at her futile attempt.  She soon gave up and wiped the offending streak off with a napkin.

"That was pathetic, you hardly even tried," Tristan commented.

"Well how far can your tongue reach?" she challenged.

He poked out his tongue and easily touched the tip of his nose with it.

"That's . . . amazing," Rory conceded. "Freak."

"Well, I've had no complaints before." He winked at her.

"Don't wink at me!"

"Why not?"  He leaned back, ready for the onslaught.

"Because that's Old Tristan behaviour," she explained.

"As opposed to?"

"New Tristan behaviour. Duh!"

"Oh, of course. I mean, duh! How stupid of me," Tristan baited. "Care to elaborate?"

"Old Tristan behaviour refers to anything and everything prior to 3pm yesterday. This includes smirking, leering, winking, that leaning thing you do . . ."

"Whoa, what leaning thing?"

"You know, the leaning thing."

"Again, I ask. What leaning thing?"

"You know. The thing. The thing when you lean."

"Well, that clears that up," he said sarcastically. "Examples would be real good right now."

"Okay, okay."  She thought for a second before reeling off the list. "Leaning against my locker, leaning on my desk, leaning _from_ your desk across the aisle to _my_ desk, leaning against the doorframe when I need to pass, leaning against my car door when I bring the jeep. Need more? How about leaning over my shoulder when I'm in the library or cafeteria. Or the one that really bugs me is when you combine the leaning with the smirk. Now you don't want to get me started on _that _list."

Tristan took a moment to reflect on this.

"So let me get this straight," he said slowly. "You _don't _like it when I do the leaning thing."

She whacked him hard on the side of the head.

"Ow, I'll take that as a yes," he said cradling his head. "And speaking of bad attributes, you need to cut down on that violence thing you have going on there, which may or may not be fuelled by your addiction to coffee."

"Oh you did _so_ not just say that! You did _not_ just badmouth coffee in front of me."

"Sure I did."

"Coffee is not evil. It is a gift from the gods as my reward for putting up with you."

"Aahh! I understand now," said Tristan. "So _that_ is why you cling to me so much and follow me around like a puppy."

"What? I do _not _fol . . ."

"Hey we better get to that store before it closes," Tristan interrupted her.

They both drained the last of their drinks and made their way to the other side of the mall.

Rory convinced him to purchase the crystal decanter and tumbler set.

"It's just sooo James Bond-ish," she had said.

"I'm going to have to take a raincheck on the whole Barnes & Noble experience," said Rory looking at her watch. "I should be getting home."

On the drive to Stars Hollow they sang to the Cranberries, even though neither of them knew many of the words.

As Tristan pulled into the driveway they noticed a frantic Lorelai pacing on the front porch.

"Uh-oh, looks like trouble," said Rory, unbuckling her seatbelt.

Lorelai ran up to the car, pulled the door open and yanked Rory out.

"And where have you been?  I've been worried sick. I've been trying to ring you for two hours. What's wrong with the phone? Dean was here you know.  What's going on?  Who's that?" she demanded, looking at the driver of the car.

"Tristan DuGrey, ma'am" he answered.

Lorelai turned back to Rory.

"What's Evil Tristan doing here?" And then to Tristan, "And what's with the ma'am business. Do I look like my mother? Call me Lorelai."

"Lorelai?" he repeated.

"Yes, Lorelai. As in 'Sorry to have taken your only daughter away for the entire afternoon, thereby scaring you to an early grave, but I sure would like to make it up to you by buying both of you coffee, _Lorelai_.'"

She pushed Rory back into the passenger seat and got in the back.

"Take a left, then a right, go straight until you hit the gazebo and park," she instructed.

He looked at Rory for confirmation.

"Do as she says unless you want to lose a limb."

Tristan looked in the rear view mirror and saw Lorelai screwing her face up and staring hard back at him. He winced, gulped, and then backed out of the driveway.

Once Lorelai had ordered three sets of coffee, cheeseburgers and fries, she stared in on Rory.

"Now, exactly what is going on with you and Dean, huh? What could possibly posses him to come stampeding into our house asking for you?"

"We broke up," Rory said.

"You broke up?"

"Well, I haven't actually told him that part yet but I think he can figure it out for himself."

"And you'd be breaking up with him because of . . ." her eyes shifted to Tristan at this point.

"Nancy," Rory supplied. Lorelai's eye's snapped back to Rory.

"Nancy?" Lorelai and Tristan said in unison.

Rory filled them in on the phone conversation with Dean.

"That cheating scumbag," Lorelai alleged.

"What kind of name is Nancy, anyway?" Tristan said in disgust.

Lorelai turned back to him.

"And where do you fit in with all of this, hmm?" she asked him.

"Me? Hey, I'm just the innocent bystander. I bought her coffee and gave her a ride home."

"You bought her coffee?" said Lorelai, instantly softening.

AN: Okay, I'm really stuck now. Let me know if u want me to kill any characters off or anything. Just kidding. No deaths in my fics. Sorry about making Dean out to be a bad guy. Just had to get him out of the picture ;)


	4. Oompie

"Yo!" greeted Tristan as he leaned up against the locker next to Rory's.

"Yo? What is this, the 1990s?" she said taking out the books she needed for the night. "And you're leaning again."

"Okay, okay.  We need to come to some compromise about the whole leaning thing." He took her backpack and started to walk down the hallway. "You coming?"  
"What are you doing?"

"I'm giving you a ride home."

"You don't need to do that. The bus is quite adequate."

"Adequate? Well, okay. _You_ can take the _adequate_ bus, but I'm giving your backpack the DuGrey treatment."

"Meaning?"

"That I'm taking it to Kissing Point and making a woman out of it. Geez Mary, what do you think? I'll drop it off at your place. Now, would you care to escort your backpack? I mean, you shouldn't leave her unattended. Think of all the sleazy people in the world," he gave her a wink.

"Enough with the winking, I'll go."

"I knew you'd succumb to my charms eventually, Mary."

"Humph. And it's not a 'she', it's a 'he'."

"What is?" he asked in confusion.

"My backpack," she explained. "Call him Homer."

"Homer?"

"Yes."

"As in the classic novel?" he questioned. "What am I saying, of course it is."

"No, it's after a classic cartoon."

"So, Homer's your favourite cartoon character, I assume?" he said opening the car door for her.

"No, I like his friend Barney. But Barney was my blanket, so Homer gets to be my backpack."

"I like Patty, personally. Way sexier than Selma, you know."

"You're crazy. _Nobody _likes Patty," she said as he pulled out of the parking space.

"Then I must be nobody."

"You got that right."

He shifted into drive.

"And Nobody's perfect." He flashed her a big cheesy grin before screeching out of the car park.

Each day Tristan found himself waiting at Rory's locker before first class with a Styrofoam cup of coffee. He started to sit with her at lunchtimes, and drive her home after school, sometimes staying for a study session and dinner.

On a late-autumn Saturday Tristan knocked on the Gilmore's front door. Lorelai answered.

"You know you don't have to knock anymore. We waver your knocking rights. From now on you can just come in," she said, taking his coat and ushering him into the house.

"But isn't that kind of, I dunno, rude? Walking into somebodies house uninvited?" he asked.

"I just invited you though," Lorelai rebuked.

"But what if you were, I dunno, naked or something." His eyes widened in terror. "Nnnot that I think of you guys naked or anything. Aah, geez!"

Lorelai took by the shoulders smiling, pushed him back outside and shut the door on him. Then she opened the door again.

"You know you don't have to knock anymore. We waver your knocking rights. From now on you can just come in," she repeated.

"Thank you I will," he answered with his head down.

Lorelai let him back in the house with a pat on the head.

"Good boy. She's in her room."

Lorelai went upstairs singing, "_All the old paintings on the tomb, they do the sand dance, don't you know._" (AN: It's a Bangles song, Walk like an Egyptian)

Tristan walked through the now-familiar house to Rory's abode. There, he found her curled up on her bed with a pained expression on her face.

"Hey what's wrong?" he said sitting on the floor to he could look at her face.

"Period pain," she said wincing. (AN: See how close they are now? She didn't even blush when she said this.)

"Oh. Can I get you something? Hot water bottle? Some sort of medicine? I could go to the pharmacy, ask what they recommend." He stood up and got his car keys out of his pocket. "I'll be right back."

"No, that's alright," she said, laughing at his concern. "Hot water bottle sounds good."

"Coming up."

"It's in the bathroom cupboard."

*He's nice. Dean used to clam up when I mentioned my time of the month*

(AN: Okay, time out. Isn't he so cute? Tristan, not Dean. Don't you want to give him a big hug? [Everyone nod] Okay, back to the story)

Tristan came out of the bathroom with a terry cloth clad hot water bottle.

"You know, I saw these really good hot water bottles at the pharmacy the other day. They were in the shape of animals. I'm going to get you one," he said, giving her the worn-out water bottle.

"That's alright, I'm quite content with Oompie," she said, giving the bottle a squeeze.

"Oompie?" he repeated.

"As in Oompa Loompa. My mom named him."

AN: Okay, that's it for today. I know it's short. Sorry guys. Not feeling too creative today. Ta muchly for everyone who sent reviews. Muah! Big Elmo kiss.  Were those little ANs during the story disruptive to the flow? Let me know so I can cut them out if necessary. Ah crap! Just remembered that I forgot to put disclaimers in.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All characters belong to Amy S-P and WB. Don't sue, you'll just make me cry.


	5. Lukey

"Hellooooo?" Sookie's head stuck around the Gilmore's front door. "Any chickadees home?"

"We're in the kitchen," Rory's voice called out to her.

Sookie made her way over to the kitchen. "Hiyaaaaa." Sookie slipped on the floor, fell against the fridge and landed on her butt, taking half the fridge magnets down with her. "Ow."

"Sweetie, are you alright?" asked Lorelai offering her hand.

"Oh yeah," she replied, prying an obtrusive object from under her buttocks. "But I think Eeyore's seen better days. Sorry." She got up and hobbled to the chair and set about trying to reattach Eeyore's head.

"Why are you wearing sandals? It's raining outside," Rory inquired.

"Cos they're brand new. I got them yesterday. Plus, I painted my toenails. You like?"

"I can totally dig, man. However, safety first. No more wearing flip-flops when it's raining. Deal?" Lorelai said.

Sookie looked at Rory for help and Rory rose to the occasion.

"Mom, you're setting double standards here. Wasn't it just last week that you went outside in the thunderstorm wearing your metal coal miners helmet with the rhinestones?"

"But Apricot was missing. I had to help Babette look for her. What kind of help would I have been with no light to guide me? That helmet was not just a fashion statement." She shook her head dramatically then punched her fist into the air. "It was a godsend in a time of need." She then hung her head as a stage actress does at the end of her performance.

Sookie stood up and applauded. She then took some roses from the vase on the table and flung them at Lorelai.

"Ow, sweetie. Thorns."

"Ooo, sorry hun." She helped Lorelai pull the stems from her sweater. "Hey, my button fell off!" Sookie got down on the floor and started scanning. "I found it!" She crawled back over to the fridge, bumped her head against it, and then picked up the red button. "I'm just going to use your sewing room for a sec, okay sweetie?"

Rory's eyes met her mom's in a panic.

"Noo!" they both yelled.

"I can do that for you. Why don't you fix yourself a nice cup of tea?" Lorelai tried prying the button out of Sookie's hand, but Sookie grasped on tightly.

"That's okay. I want to do it. It's the first time that I can because I don't have any bandages on my fingers. Look." Sookie held up her hands for inspection. "See? I'm quite looking forward to it actually."

Lorelai looked at the beam on her best friends face, and felt herself caving in.

"Remember, safety first," Rory whispered into Lorelai's ear.

"Please," Sookie begged.

"Fine," Lorelai relented. "But you must wear a thimble at all times during this sewing activity. If I come up there and see you thimbleless I'm going to get all kung fuey on you. Understood?"

"Understood."  Sookie attempted to give her friend a hug but tripped due to her flip-flops and ended up head butting Lorelai in the stomach.

Lorelai waved off the oncoming apology. "That's ok. I didn't want more children anyway," she said clutching her stomach.

She waited until Sookie was upstairs before turning to Rory, placing both her hands on her shoulders and looking her straight in the eyes.

"Promise me that if something ever happens to me, you will Sookie-proof the world. Promise that you will be on constant Sookie-Watch. It's the only way I'll rest in peace."

"By 'rest in peace' do you mean not taking to haunting all my future love prospects, as you said you would when I accidentally broke your Madonna bra?"

"What were you doing juicing those oranges on those cones anyway?"

"What? I was six. You were sick. I thought you'd like some nice fresh orange juice," Rory defended herself.

"And you didn't think it was the slightest bit weird when the juice came out green from reacting with the metal?"

"I was six. I thought I already mentioned that." 

"I thought you were smart."

"It looked like the juicer Sookie always used."

"How? There were two of them. They were attached. Together. They had straps."

Their conversation was halted when Sookie's voice called from upstairs.

"Lorelai, where's your unpickerer thingy majiggy?"

Sookie looked up at them sheepishly as they found her on the bed, sucking her bleeding fingers.

"Look Lorelai. My thumbs are still fine." She waved her thumbs in the air in triumph.

"Why do you need the unstitcher?" Lorelai asked as she rummaged through her sewing case.

Sookie lifted up her cardigan, which was lying on her lap. The front of her skirt also lifted up, being attached to the cardigan.

"It appears that I have sewn myself in for the winter."

"Hmmm. While I'm sure this is some preview of the crazy winter fashion that awaits us in next months In Style, I don't think we should invest in the fad just yet. We'll wait and see what Versace does, agreed?" Lorelai set out to relieve Sookie from her cardigan.

Late Saturday morning.

"Luuuke!" Lorelai seated herself at the counter. "What would you say to doing something totally un-Lukey like this evening?"

"I'm not sure I like the sound of that," he said wiping down the counter.  "And how many times have I told you not to say _Lukey_? It's not a real word."

"Sure it is. You are Luke, correct?"

"I'll agree to that."

"All things pertaining to you can be described as Lukey, correct?"

"No."

"Come _on_, you stubborn mule.  Give an inch every once in a while."  Seeing that this approach wasn't working, and being a very determined and undeterred girl, she started on a different path.  That was the thing with Lorelai. She was very versatile.  "I'll give you an example."

"I can't wait to hear this." He poured her a cup of coffee.

"So, okay, the other day I was walking through the mall with Rory, and I see this flannel, plaid shirt. I turned to Rory and said to her, _Now isn't that Lukey?_ And she agreed. You know what she said?"

"No, tell me. I'm completely fascinated. I must know now," he deadpanned.

Ignoring the sarcastic undertones she continued.

"She said, _That is the most Lukey thing I have seen. Let's slap a baseball cap on it and call it Junior_."

"Oh, she did not."

"You calling me a liar, punk?" she accosted him.

"You don't intimidate me."

"Oh no?"

"Well, maybe a little. I can concede that much. But I still standby my Webster when I say that _Lukey_ is not a word."

Lorelai nodded in understanding then leaned over the counter.

"That was a very Lukey thing you said just then."

"I give up," Luke said throwing down his rag.

"Yay for me!"

"So what was this un-Lukey thing you wanted me to do?" Luke asked.

"Okay, well you see, we're having a Scrabble night at our place tonight. Tristan's going to be there, Lane and Mrs Kim are going to be there, Sookie and Jackson are going to be there . . ." She trailed off.

"Aah, I see. You're the only one without a Scrabble partner," he surmised. "I'm amused."

"How very astute of you.  And mean. But, yes. I am without a partner.  And I figured that since you have to close tonight for the fumigators, you could come over and enjoy the company of the famous Gilmore girls and their chosen cult members. No strings attached."

"No strings attached except for?"

"Except for you having to bring the coffee."

"Okay, I'll make you a deal."

"I'm all ears, just ask Rune."

"Rune?"

"Yeah, remember? Jackson's cousin?  The one with the complex about tall people? Particularly me?"

"Oh right, right. I remember. The one who left you to go bowling and left me with the Queen of _Another-four-cards-please. I-don't-like-the-ones-you-gave-me._"

"That's the guy. So what's the deal?"

"Deal is, I agree to be your Scrabble partner. I bring the coffee . . ."

"I like . . ."

"I also bring some Lukey foods that you have to try. No exceptions."

"I like not so much now."

"Do we have a deal?"

Lorelai spat in her palm and held out her hand.

"Deal."

"That is so unhygienic. Not to mention so third grade."  Reluctantly he spat in his own hand and firmly shook her hand.

"Great. We'll see you at 7. Don't forget the coffee."

AN: Sorry there was no Trory action in this chapter. I promise there will be more in the next few.  So what did you think of this chapter. I'm quite proud of it, and I've got some great dialogue in mind for the next chapter.  Okay, so I'll post this and get on with the next one.

P.S. Wowee, you guys rock! I now have 2 pages of reviews. I saw other stories had many reviews and started getting review envy. I'm good now though. And I have you guys to thank for that. Ta J

Thanks especially to **iris28** (That was the bestest compliment ever), **illini **(for the suggestion, even though I didn't use it), **OWPNN **(you're a riot and on your way to becoming very Lorelaiey), **shayness** (muah, your remark meant a lot to me), and just everyone for being the crazy, quirky people that you are. And to **liquid glass**, hang on there bud. Once you've mastered the HSC you'll feel like you can do anything (Including T.P.ing all the houses in Surfer's Paradise during Schoolies. Snicker snicker)


	6. Scrabble

"Hey, come on in," Lorelai said to Luke, taking the pot of coffee from his hand. "Only one?"

"Don't complain. Now where do you want this stuff?" he asked, holding up a brown paper grocery bag.

"What's in there?"

"Lukey food," he replied with a smirk.

"That can go in the kitchen." She led him past the living room where Tristan and Rory were watching a tape of last week's Dawson Creek, and into the kitchen.

" . . . and out the back door," she continued her conversation. "And come to rest in the trash can."

"Nice try, but no dice. You spat, remember?"

"It was a moment of weakness on behalf on my salivary glands.  What can I say, they work overtime when I'm near you," she said, hoping to get out of the deal.

"Not funny," Luke said, although he was secretly pleased. "Here, try this." He tapped the lid of a small container.

"What's that?" she asked, taking off the lid and sniffing at the contents.

"Hummus."

"What's hummus?"

"It's like peanut butter." He took out a rice cracker and dipped it into the yellow mixture. "Here," he said forcing it into her mouth.

Lorelai's face contorts as some of the paste finds it way down her oesophagus. She spits what she can out.

"How is that like peanut butter? It tastes like cardboard and feels like paste."

"Did it stick to the roof of your mouth?"

"Yes."

"Then it's exactly like peanut butter."

"What's in it?"

"Chick pea."

"Chick pee, you can say that again."

Meanwhile in the living room

"That's whacked! Who talks like that?" said Tristan. "No teenager this side of sanity could possibly have the vocabulary that these people have.  What do they put in the water in Capeside?"

"You _do_ know that this is a show right? Purely entertainment," Rory explained.

"Well it's not entertaining _me_. Who do these producers think they are? They take great actors like these, half of them were probably really happy doing their thing in other shows, and turn them into mini-Nietzsches that clearly do not represent the generation that is us."

"Gee, passionate much?  Maybe you should be on that show."

Tristan scoffed.

"When is everyone getting here?"  Tristan checked his watch. "Not that I'm nervous or anything."

"Why would you be?"

*Why? Why? Is she stupid? One bad opinion of me from the mouth of Lane Kim, best friend to Rory Gilmore, could be the death of the beautiful thing that is _us_. True, there really isn't an us, but there could be, and if there were, Lane would be in the position to destroy _us_. Oh my goodness, I'm rambling in my head. Oh my goodness, I said goodness. I need to get away from Stars Hollow.  These people are like a spooky version of Leave it to Beaver.  Only more perky*

"You okay?"  Suddenly Rory's face was in front of his, looking at him quizzically.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well Dawson just reeled off another big, articulate speech filled with words I think even Mr Medina would have to look up, and you just sat there and said nothing. Being quiet for once?"

"Thought I'd try something new," he replied.

The Gilmore's front door again opened admitting Lane and her mother.

"Hey," Rory called from the couch.

"Hey," Lane called back.

"Lane this is Tristan, Tristan this is Lane," said Rory not leaving the sofa.

Tristan got up hurriedly and shook Lane's hand.

"Nice to meet you Lane."

"Same here. Tristan this is my . . ."

"Wait, don't tell me," Tristan started to turn on the charm. "This must be your sister. Hello, it's lovely to . . ."

Thwack!  Mrs Kim had clobbered him with her handbag.

"I'm not her sister, you fool.  Do I look like a little girl? I am her mother.  Do you go to church?" Mrs Kim ranted.

Tristan recoiled.

"Mrs Kim, hi!" Rory interrupted.

"Rory," Mrs Kim replied. "I bring tofu."  She held up a bag.

"Oh. Great. Well you can take it on into the kitchen."

Mrs Kim audibly growled at Tristan before leaving for the kitchen.

"That went well, don't you think?" Tristan asked Rory.

"Hey, you made my mother hate you in two seconds flat.  You even got the handbag treatment on first meeting. I'm impressed.  Ror, this one's a keeper," said Lane grabbing the bowl of popcorn from the coffee table and setting out to devour it.

"Does that mean Lane likes me?" Tristan whispered to Rory.

"Like? Try admire."

Later that night

"Rory, score," Lorelai demanded.

"The Non-Mediocre Hybrids 290, the Kims 297, the Chiltonites 346, and the New Edition Websters 76," Rory reported.

"I told you that name was a jinx," Luke said to Lorelai.

"Ssh. I'm trying to think." Lorelai sat crossed legged on the floor while everyone else was seated at the dining table.  She had her left eye close and her lips pursed together. "I got it!"

She got up and laid the tiles on the board.

"Stoopid?" Rory read out.

"That's not right," said Jackson. 

"Oh come on. We let you have rasquats," Luke argued.

"Hey, I like having you on my side for a change," Lorelai said to him.

"Me too." Luke smiled at her.

*Wow what a moment. I wonder if anyone else noticed that we just had a moment. I wonder if Luke noticed we had a moment*

"Okay, we'll let her have stoopid," Lane concluded.

All the sudden Lorelai yawned.

"Tired, mom?" Rory asked.

"Yes. All this thinking is making me sleepy. And someone only brought one pot of coffee," Lorelai mumbled.

"Which you didn't share, may I point out," Rory added.

"Sharing one pot of coffee is like sharing one grape. It's pointless," Lorelai philosophised.

"It must be real challenging being your brain," Mrs Kim said.

"Why, thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment."

"Gee mom, you look tired," Rory reiterated.

"I'm so tired that I . . .No, wait. I'm not going to finish that sentence because whatever intelligent, witty reason I give will not give justice to the amount of tiredness that I am currently feeling," Lorelai said.

"Okay, time to wrap up. Rory final score?" Sookie inquired.

"No need," Lorelai said. "I declare the Chiltonites winners of this here Annual Gilmore Scrabbleathon."

"There she goes, making up more words," Mrs Kim said.

"Tristan, Rory, speech if you will," Lorelai said, wisely ignoring Mrs Kim.

"We're so happy we're jumping for joy," Rory said.

"No you're not," Lorelai pointed out.

Rory sighed and dragged Tristan up to standing position.

"Jump," she instructed him.

Tristan was all too familiar with the Gilmore rules to know that if you said you were doing something, you had to do it.  That rule in particular was conceived the night that Rory said she make the coffee in the morning, only she didn't with disastrous consequences to the Mr Coffee inflicted upon by Lorelai.  

Tristan and Rory started jumping on the spot.

"Much better," Lorelai commented.

The Kims left soon after the game was packed up, followed by Jackson and Sookie.  Luke helped clean the mess in the kitchen and secretly made a pot of coffee to be later discovered by Lorelai before heading off on foot.  Tristan was sleeping over for the first time . . . 

AN: Hehe. I'll have to leave it there for now.  I've been typing the last two chapters for four hours and my back kinda hurts and my legs have gone numb. Hope they don't fall off J

Please make me a happy chappie and review.  I don't know how long I can keep this story going. I have no idea where it's heading.  Let me know what you want to happen cos I'm now open for major suggestions.  Submit during office hours only. Just ignore me, I'm going Lorelaiey.

PS: 31 reviews guys? Aww. Thanks. I'm with CMM (no, not literally). Who needs drugs? Write a fanfic and get euphoric on the reviews.  So far no nasty reviews (that was a comment, not an invitation). I'm a happy camper. I got that line off Full House. Great sitcom.  Too bad they grew up, huh?

And before I forget (again)

(Actually I did forget. I had to resubmit this chapter. Hehe.)

Disclaimer: I take no credit in creating these characters. They are the property of Amy Sherman-Pallidino and WB.

Also, sorry for anyone who was offended by the DC remarks. No harm intended, it was all in good honest fun. DC characters also belong to WB, not me. Like, duh!


	7. The Egg Flipper

"Did you know there are no words that rhyme with orange, purple, or silver?" Tristan asked as Rory made his makeshift bed on the floor of her room.

"Really? I'm sure there is," Rory argued.  "I bet I can find some."

"Only you would see that simple statement-slash-quirky-fact as a challenge." 

Tristan went into the bathroom to get changed into some sweatpants. He went over to the vanity and splashed some water on his face.

*Stay cool DuGrey. So what if you'll be sleeping mere inches away from her? So what? So what? I'll tell you so what! You said it yourself; Rory Gilmore will be sleeping mere inches away from me. Aah geez! I can't handle this. Stoopid teenage hormones. And to top it all off, I'm talking to myself again.  I wonder if anyone else has this problem*

Meanwhile in Rory's bedroom

*Aah geez! He's going to be spending the night in my room.  Good thing I vacuumed.  Is there a proper etiquette on bedroom behaviour when you have a visitor sleeping in your room?  Should I leave the door open?  Should I wait until he's asleep before I allow myself to fall asleep?  What if he needs to pee in the middle of the night? Maybe I should leave the lamp on.  Why am I even nervous? He's just a chum.  I have no feelings for him. Everything is completely platonic between us*

Rory managed to slip her nightdress over her head just before Tristan re-entered her room.

*Wow, he's looking mighty fine.  There go all friendly intentions out the window. Out they go. I can see them flying out the window. Mmmm. He could give that Charlie fella on Dawson's Creek a run for his money*

*She looks like an angel. She's perfect. Well, don't just stand there at the doorway gaping at her.  Say something, at least*

"Hey, have you ever watched that show, Daria? It's a cartoon," Tristan asked.

*What made me say that? I just admitted I watch cartoons. A very cool cartoon, nonetheless, but a cartoon all the same. Why isn't she saying anything?*

*Rory, stop staring at him. Answer him at least. Ahh! What was the question again? Oh yeah, I remember*

"I've seen it a couple of times," she managed to get out.

"Well, you know that friend of Quinns? The Asian one?"

"The one that talks really slow?"

"Yeah, that's the one. Don't you think that Louise sometimes sounds like her?"

"Oh yeah. You're right! That's funny," Rory acknowledged.

"Her never-ending, incessant whingeing . . ."

"That's tautology," Rory interrupted.

"Eh? Come again?" Tristan asked.

"Never mind. Pay attention in English."

"You bug me," Tristan said in mock disdain.

"_You _bug _me_," Rory returned.

"Then why do you hang around me?" Tristan challenged.

"You bug me in a good way.  And you make me happy."

Tristan's heart rose. He could picture it hovering above Earth.

"What can I say, but I'm gifted?" Tristan said.

"With me," Rory added.

"Pardon?"

"With me. You're gifted with me."

"Well, I must be gifted if I can put up with _you_," Tristan joked.

Tristan closed the door and turned off the light. He slid under the blankets that covered the sofa cushions.

"Goodnight Ror," he called out.

Rory realised she was still standing in the middle of her room and quickly darted over to her bed and got in. 

"'Night Tristan."

Five minutes later

Thud!

"Tris?"

"I rolled off the cushions," he explained as he made his way back onto his _mattress_. Rory giggled. "I swear, your floor must have a forty-five degree incline, or something."

"It's not the floor, it's the sofa cushions. They don't wear out evenly."

"No kidding."

Two minutes later

Thud!

"Tris?"

"Shuddup!"

"Fine, but I was just going to offer you a share in my bed."

"Yeah?"

"Get up here," she said, scooting over and holding up the covers for him.

"You sure?"

"Just keep your hands and all other body parts to yourself," she warned.

He slid in beside her, afraid to touch anything for fear he would be exiled from her bed.

"Your bed is lumpy," he commented.

"Lodge complaints in the morning," Rory mumbled.

After an hour of lying in bed, staring at the back of her head, Tristan presumed Rory to be safely asleep.  He moved a little closer to her and cautiously draped his arm over her waist.  He revelled in the closeness and breathed in all things Rory.  Little did he know that Rory was very much awake and very much aware of Tristan's change in position. Not able to see his face, she couldn't tell whether he was awake or not and was therefore unable to determine whether his action was a conscious or unconscious one.  Tristan held his breath as Rory snuggled closer to him.  They both fell asleep with smiles on their faces.

And that was how Lorelai found them the next morning.  She stood at the doorframe brandishing an egg flipper in her hand.

"Psst," she called out to them.  No one stirred. She tried again. "Psst, hey! Hello?!"

She went over to the bed and swatted Tristan's butt with the flipper.

Tristan's eyes snapped open before he toppled backwards off the bed and onto Lorelai's feet.

"Hey, ouch!" Lorelai exclaimed, hitting him again.  He quickly rolled off her feet.

Rory stirred from the loss of warmth.

"Tristan, what are doing on the floor again?" Rory asked. "And Mom, what are you doing with a cooking utensil in your hand? Don't tell me you were cooking."

"I was making pancakes," Lorelai said defensively. "I came in here to wake you two up, and what do I find? Pepe le Pew in the same bed as my daughter."

"Hey, I object to that reference," Tristan spoke up.

"Pipe down, Pepe. Rory, what's going on?"

"Nothing. We need new sofa cushions," Rory answered. "Level ones."

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Mom, nothing happened. Trust me." Considering the case closed, Rory sniffed the air. "Is something burning?"

"Aah, shoot!" Lorelai exited the room, flipper in tow.

"Morning Mary," Tristan greeted, getting up off the floor.

"Morning Pepe. Sleep well?"

"Very well," he smirked.  "Nice hair."

Rory felt the entangled mess upon her head.

"Back at ya.  And I thought you always slaved over your hair in the morning to get it like that," she retorted.

"Guys, get dressed," Lorelai yelled from the kitchen. "We're going to Luke's for breakfast."

Later that afternoon

Tristan, Rory and Lane were sitting on Rory's bed braiding each other's hair. Well, Tristan was braiding Rory's hair. Rory in turn was braiding Lane's hair. Lane was painting Tristan's toenails.

"Tris, I'm a little worried," Rory spoke up. "You know how to braid hair and you're not complaining about getting a pedicure.  Something you'd like to share with the rest of us?"

"I'm just of the opinion that Marilyn Red is a very good shade on me. That's all." He peeked out from behind Rory's head to admire Lane's handiwork.

"Not bad, but how do I get this stuff off?"

"You don't," Lane teased. "Eventually it'll wear away. Give it a month."

"Are you kidding?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"Hey, let's go get a video," Rory suggested jumping off the bed.

"Ouch, hair!" Lane piped up.

"Oh, sorry." Rory let go of Lane's hair.

Lane checked her watch.

"I have time to help you pick out a movie, but then I gotta go."

"Church?" Rory asked.

"Yep."

"Favourite ice cream flavour?" Rory asked, as they walked down the main street of Stars Hollow.

"Mango," Lane replied instantly.

"Strawberry," Tristan said.

Rory and Lane gave him a look of disgust.

"What?" Tristan asked defensively.

"Strawberry is nobodies favourite," Rory pointed out gently.

"And I'm nobody. I thought we already had this conversation." (AN: Refer to a previous chapter. Which one? I dunno.) "What's yours?"

"Cookie dough," Rory said. "Hey, I'm going to pick up some coffee from Luke's. I'll meet you guys at the video store. Oh, and Lane? Don't let him pick any movies starring anything bigger than a C cup," Rory instructed.

"Got it," said Lane giving her the thumbs up.

"Favourite colour?" Tristan continued, when Rory left.

"Orange. You?"

"Blue. Your question."

"Okay, best feeling in the world?" Lane asked as they entered the video store.

"Being in love."

"Good answer. Hey, that was a good answer."

"Do you always say things twice?"

"No."

"What's your best feeling in the world?" Tristan asked her.

"I was going to say sneezing. Not your generic brand, spontaneous, all-of-a-sudden-out-of-nowhere type sneezes mind you. I'm talking hard-core, builds-up-for-five-minutes, makes-you-walk-away-with-squeezed-eyes-like-you've-lost-your-glasses type sneeze.  I like the anticipation, the suspense.  You know that's coming and it gonna be a biggie when it finally happens.  Pseudo sneezes suck though!"

"Pseudo sneezes?"

"Like the aforementioned sneeze, only no delivery."

"Good answer."

"Thank you," Lane said. "So, do you like Rory?"

AN: It's the best I can do for a cliffhanger.  Not that it's much of one since I'm posting the next chapter at the same time as this one.  Hmmm, maybe I should delay the release of the next chapter. Muahahahaha! Nah, I'm not that mean. Enjoy!

**OWPNN**: Hehe, you're silly.  I like your poem.  Stoopid FDA.  Let's kung fuey their asses!

Special thanks to reviewers **snow, Len, **and** Kou Shun'u**

Oh yeah, disclaimer: I own nothing but the story line. Everything else belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino.


	8. Three Cheers for Best Friends

"Pardon?" Tristan tried to look preoccupied at picking out a video so that she wouldn't notice that his face had turned red.

"Oh please! You think I don't notice when somebody's crushing on my best friend?"

"Well . . .I . . .I mean . . ."

"Relax, Pepe. I'm not going to tell her," she said pulling _Fried Green Tomatoes _from the shelf and turning it over to read the blurb. "So when are _you_ going to tell her?"

"I'm not."

"Why?"

"Because I'm quite content being friends with her," Tristan explained.

"Oh, I get it." Lane came to a conclusion. "You're scared."

"Pardon?"

"You're scared," she repeated. "You're afraid that if you get together you'll become a _couple_.  And the fate of all couples is to either get married or amicably or non-amicably split.  And seeing that Rory cannot commit to even say, I love you, to Dean, I don't think she'd be one to jump into the marriage option.  You're afraid you're going to lose her so you'd rather remain friends than take the risk. Am I right?"

"Smart ass."

"And as a smart ass, I'm advising you with all my genius intelligence to muster up some courage and tell her how you feel.  Remember, it is better to have love and lost, than never to have loved in the first place."

She took two videos from the shelf.

"Here, pick one. _Return to Oz _or _Grease 2_?"

"I've never heard of either of them."

"Here are the pros and cons of each.  _Return to Oz _is one of Rory's all-time favourites, so you'l get major kudos for picking that one.  Also, she's afraid of the Wheelers so she'll more than likely take refuge in your sweater at regular intervals during the viewing.  Instant intimacy.  Cons however, are that if she watches this film she'll have a restless night with dreams of Wheelers, in which case the ramifications will become apparent at Chilton tomorrow when you especially will suffer in her wrath."

"And _Grease 2_?"

"The sappiest movie ever. Pros. At the end of the movie Rory will feel all lovey-dovey and your chances of winning her over, should you chose that time to reveal your feelings, should be very high."

"And cons?"

"If Lorelai's home, she'll watch it with you and sing along to all the songs, killing any romantic atmosphere that would otherwise be there."

"Lorelai's with Sookie."

"_Grease 2_ it is," she concluded, returning the reject to the shelf.

Rory came in as they approached the counter.

"And the choice for this evening's pleasure is?"

"_Grease 2_," Tristan said, holding up the video.

"Excellent choice. I approve," Rory said.

Meanwhile in the jeep on the way back from Hartford

"I'm really happy with today's purchases," Sookie stated.

"And why wouldn't you be? Potholders in the shape of pigs for five bucks? You had a great day," Lorelai duly noted.

"And I'm going to have a terrific night. Jackson's coming over," Sookie said, shyly.

"Oooo! A Jackson night."

"How about you? What are you doing tonight?" she asked her best friend.

Lorelai shrugged.

"I dunno. Taxes?"

"Sweetie, it's been ages since you had a date," Sookie said gently.

"No need to point out the obvious. Emily already has that job down pat."

"There's no one special whom you might to spend the evening with?" Sookie wheedled. "A certain burger boy?"

Lorelai swerved the car into the next lane and back.

"Whoops! Sorry," Lorelai apologised. "Must be a reflex. Every time Luke is mentioned my instincts kick in and I attempt to off myself."

"Lorelai," Sookie said in a stern voice.

"Wow, Sookie. Great Emily impersonation. I mean it."

"Why don't you ask him out? I know you like him. And I'm pretty sure he likes you."

Lorelai opened her mouth ready to refuse the claims. Then she reconsidered. A rare occurrence.

"Do you really think Luke might feel the same?"

"Hello? The guy lives to annoy you. Of course he likes you. Ask him out. Now! For tonight."

"Luke has to work tonight. He works every night. It's a sign. He's not made for dating," Lorelai said.

"Stop making excuses. I'll watch the diner tonight," Sookie offered.

"Luke would rather die than let you loose behind his sacred counter."

"So if he accepts, it proves how much he likes you," Sookie deduced. "What have you got to lose?"

"My dignity. And coffee. Great coffee, I might add.  Besides you've got your night planned with Jackson, remember?"

"Jackson can help out. He wants to see you two together more than I do. In fact I'm pretty sure he's got money riding on it."

Twenty minutes later at Luke's

"Hey Luke," Lorelai said taking a seat and awkwardly trying to act casual.

"No."

"What?"

"No," he repeated. "I know what you're going to ask and the answer is no."

"Oh." Lorelai's heart sank to her feet, through her shoes, slid across the floor, out the door and down the storm drain.  She got up to leave.

"Where are you going?" Luke asked.

"Home."

"You're giving up on your coffee that fast?  I figured you had at least ten minutes in you."

Suddenly realisation dawned on Lorelai.

"Oh, of course. You were talking about coffee. You were saying no to coffee."  She let out a silent sigh of relief.

"What else would I be talking about?  What else would _you_ be talking about? Honestly Lorelai, haven't you worked out the pattern to our conversations yet? Coffee is always first on the agenda, no matter what.  And from there the conversation digresses into further insanity as we argue the topic of the day. Ring a bell?"

"Er, speaking of today's topic . . ." Lorelai started.

"Wait a second." He walked over to the coffee pot and poured her a cup.  He set it down in front of her. "It doesn't work unless you have the coffee in front of you. Please continue."

"Would you like to go on a date?" she said quickly.  Then thinking she might have to clarify, "With me?"

Luke stood up straight and started to smooth down the cap on his head.

"I . . .er . . .I mean . . .I'd have to close down the diner for the night ."

*He's not refusing. He's actually considering!  He's even thinking of closing down the diner for me! I'm not even wearing my flippy skirt*

"That's not necessary," Lorelai said. "Sookie and Jackson offered to take care of the diner for tonight."

*She must really want this date.  She must really want me!  Holy cow! I knew that extra pot of coffee I left her last night would score me brownie points. I'm not even wearing my blue plaid*

"In that case, I would be honoured to accompany you for whatever psychosis you have planned for tonight."

"You would?" A huge grin spread across her face.  She checked herself.

*Play it cool Lorelai. Say something witty and flirty. And don't forget the hair flip thing*

"So," Lorelai flipped her hair. "Those muffins look mighty sexy today."

*Remember to think _before_ you speak. _Before_, idiot!*

Luke smiled and handed her the largest double chocolate, choc-chip muffin he had in his possession.

AN: That's it for today. My hands are cramping up. Please review.  I also like emails. Hint, hint!


	9. Grease is the word

"_We'll be together. Always together. Like birds of a feather, forever and ever._" Rory stopped singing and started to mimic the electric guitar riff. (AN: This paragraph is totally wasted if you haven't seen the movie. I recommend it. It's shamelessly sappy but Max Caulfield aka Michael is major eye candy. Sweet!)

"Ror? Remember when you were singing _I Will Survive_, and you said you couldn't sing. And then I said you could and that you had a beautiful voice?" Tristan interrupted.

"Yes," Rory said slowly.

"That compliment does not transfer to vocal instrumental performances."

"Humph!" Rory stopped the video and hit the rewind button.

"Hey, the movie hasn't finished yet!" Tristan objected.

"There's just one more scene after that one, where all the characters graduate and celebrate by jumping in the air. Nothing rlife-altering." A grin slowly spread across Rory's face. "Wait a minute! Don't tell me you actually liked that movie!"

"Oh, please! It was a total chick flick.  I was just . . .concerned." He chose his words carefully.

"Concerned?" Rory questioned. "About what?"

"About you. I thought you might suffer ignorant-movie-ending-itis, that's all."

"You've been hanging around my mom, way too much."

"Jealous?"

"Oh please! It's not jealousy it's pity. Pity for _her_ not _you_."

Tristan poked her tongue out at her.

"Oh, that was mature. Are we nine again?" Rory remarked.

"I'll have you know that I was a very mature nine year old."

"And you've obviously regressed from there." Rory walked to the VCR and ejected the video. "Hey, you wanna get some ice cream before you head off? I've got to get you away from strawberry and onto something more exotic."

"Such as?"

"Toffee crunch?" Rory suggested.

"Hey, start off slowly!"

"Okay, we'll start with raspberry. Slightly more exotic than strawberry, yet close enough that it'll resemble it in sight and sound."

"No good, I'm allergic to raspberry."

"Seriously?"

"Very seriously," Tristan said seriously. "My airway swells up."

"Well, at least it'll match the rest of your head," Rory pointed out.

"Funny. Very funny. You'll not think it so funny, if you had to give me mouth to mouth."

"No, I wouldn't," Rory agreed.

"Ror, can I talk to you seriously for a sec?" Tristan asked.

"Sure. What's up?"

Tristan took a deep breath to clear his head.

*Damn that guitar riff for ruining the romantic moment*

"Um . . .er, well . . ." he started

"Some, very serious words," Rory commented.

"Shuuuuddup! I'm trying to be romantic, here." Tristan gulped.

*Whoops!  That is an example of how I _didn't_ want it to come out*

Rory raised a questioning eyebrow and waited for him to continue.

*Did he just say romantic?*

Tristan rubbed the back of his neck.

"Ror." He took her hands in his and watched as her cheeks began to flush. He smiled.

*Hmm. Things don't seem so one-sided anymore*

*Aah, my face is flushing! I hope he doesn't notice*

"I make you nervous, Rory?" It was a statement.

"No, you make me nausous," she removed her hands from his.

*Nooo! Why did I just do that? Cos you're stupid, Stupid. Ahhh! Undo, undo! Where's the control + z button when you need it? If only I didn't blush. I totally ruined a perfect moment*

Tristan however was undeterred. 

"You don't mean that, do you?" he asked, again reaching for her hands.

AN: And I'll end it there. Here's the deal. 70 reveiws = chapter 10. Deal? [Spits on her hand and offers it to the modem]

Special thanks to **Priya** for her email and **OWPNN** for her constant insanity. More Trory and L/L in the next chapter. Not that I've written it yet. I'm just psychic. Don't forget to review if you want more. I love being evil!


	10. Sock it to me, baby!

"I . . ." her voice faltered.

"Rory, I like you. And I think you like me. Like like I mean."

"There goes that nine year old mentality again," she said nervously.

He cracked her a small smile before continuing.

"I . .I don't know how to put this," he said, thinking aloud. "Yes, I do. Rory, you make me like myself. You make me feel alive and happy to _be_ alive. You make me want to be a better person."

*I think I just came off sounding like Jerry Macguire*

"I really like you Ror."

*Who am I kidding, I think I love her!*

"And I don't want to pressure you," he continued, "but I'd really like it if we could go on a date. You know, the kind of date where we hold hands and play putt putt.  Maybe even share an ice cream. Cookie dough, I insist. I'd really like to get closer to you, and I don't mean that in a perverted way." He paused. "Say something Ror."

"I'm scared, Tris," she started. "I don't want you to be another Dean."

"I'm not like that. Not anymore. In case you haven't noticed, Ror, I haven't dated anyone in two months. I'm not interested in anyone but you. I am totally in awe of you. You've changed me so much. I just wish you could see that.  Let's face it, I think I'd go bonkas if you said no. Please say yes."

"I thought you said no pressure," Rory reminded him. 

*I need to think about this. I love him too much to go out with him. That doesn't make sense. I know, I know. I just don't want us to be . . .over. If we go out and we fight, I'll lose him as a friend. Gaah, don't be stupid Ror. Take a chance. I don't know if you realise this, but you just admitted you love him. Isn't love worth the chance? Now stop talking to yourself and go jump his bones!*

Rory smiled at the thoughts currently running through her head. She made a decision.

"So where are we going? Are we doing something Lukey?"

"We are doing something very Lukey," Lorelai answered, taking the jeep off the freeway. "Hence the attire."

Lorelai had donned flannel for her first date with Luke. She was surprised at the constant softness and warmth it offered and no longer questioned Luke's choice in fabric.

"So what's Rory up to tonight? Extra credit?"

"She and Tristan were watching a video when I left"

"She's been seeing a lot of that kid lately," Luke noted.

"That she has. I think she has a thing for him."

"I think _he _has a think for _her_," Luke corrected her.

"Well, it's one of the two. Hopefully both. Wouldn't that be something? Can you imagine their kids? Woof!"

Luke laughed.

"Doesn't woof have bad connotations? Hey, where are we?" Luke craned his neck to look beyond the perimeter of the car park.

"We. Are. Here," said Lorelai in staccato.

"And. Here. Is. Where?"

"Where. We. Are."

"E. Nuff. All. Ready."

"O. K."

"Not funny."

"Sure it was, you're just slow. You'll laugh in a minute. Trust me."

"The last time you said _trust me_ I came back and all the coffee was gone," said Luke getting out of the car. "Hartford batting cages?"

"For all your baseball needs," said Lorelai, reading off the sign.

Luke and Lorelai took adjacent batting cages.

"So I just stand here and hit it?" Lorelai asked.

"Yep."

"Here? Right here?"

"Yes, right there."

"Here? Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"How sure?"

"Sure sure. About ninety-eight percent sure."

"What about the other two percent?"

"I had to listen to the Bangles in the car, my judgement's a bit cloudy at the moment," Luke explained.

"So the ball will fly out and I just hit it?"

"That's the plan."

"Okay. Sock it to me, baby!" she yelled to the machine.

"You need to press that button first."

"This one?"

"Yep."

"This one right here?"

"That's the one."

"You sure?"

"Aaaargh! Are you even trying to be annoying, or is this natural? I'm just curious," said Luke, leaning through the chicken wire that separated their cages.

"I'm not annoying. I'm just excruciatingly unconventional." She pushed the button. "Sock it to me, baby!"

A ball came flying out and whizzed past Lorelai's head.

"Okay, I'm done."

"You didn't even try."

"Sure I did. I had my elbows up and everything."

"But you failed to swing. It's kind of important," Luke pointed out.

An hour later

"Okay, now that we've done something Lukey, it's time for something Lorelaiey."

"I don't like the sound of that."

Lorelai drove them to a nearby karaoke bar.

"No way," said Luke adamantly.

"Yes way. Come on!"

He reluctantly allowed himself to be dragged inside.

"Everyone participates," said a lady handing them a menu. She walked away.

Lorelai opened it up. Instead of the usual soups, salads and mains, there was a list of songs.

"Let's see . . ." She skipped past the Beatles page and looked at the Bangles songs.

"Think again," was Luke's response.

"Well what do you suggest?"

"Got any Vivaldi?"

"Vivaldi doesn't have words."

"Works for me."

"Nice try." Lorelai snapped the menu shut. "I've got it!" She walked over to the lady and informed her of their choice.

"Exactly what did you put us down for?" Luke asked once she had rejoined him.

Lorelai opened her mouth to respond but was beaten to it.

"And now Luke and Lorelai performing Simply the Best," came the voice over the speaker. The audience applauded in anticipation.

"Aah geez! Tina Turner?"

"Please?"  She stuck out her bottom lip. "Pretty please with chick pee on the top?"

He had a sudden flashback of her yelling, _sock it to me, baby_.

He gave in.

"Let's rock this joint!" He grabbed her hand and they ran onstage.

*Oh boy! Is he gonna punish me for this*

*Decaf for an entire week*

AN: Want the next chapter? You know the deal. Review. When the counter hits 85 I'll hand over the goods.

PS: Apologies to **Princess Ruby** and **Supergirl101**. I have no idea why chapter 9 was repeated twice. Good to know I got you riled up though. LOL. And hey, no reviewing twice (or 70 times) Ruby. At least not for the same chapter. And you call _me_ evil, you conniving little snippet. I like how you think though :) And that goes double for you **Kitty and Mimi** (and hey, what's up with your name? Do you have a split personality or something?)

**OWPNN**: Thanks (once again) for your email.

Okay 80 for the next chapter


	11. Smashing (this one's for Len)

A man approached Lorelai as she and Luke made their way offstage to a tumultuous applause.

"What a smashing rendition!" he said, leading her away from Luke.

A blonde woman noticed the abandoned Luke and quickly took Lorelai's place.

"You have a really sexy voice," she breathed into his ear.

Lorelai pulled her attention away from her admirer and turned just in time to see the blonde laying one on a bemused Luke.

"Oh, I don't think so, missy!" Lorelai grabbed her by the hair and socked her one.

"I've never gotten kicked out of a karaoke club before!" Luke said in an upbeat voice.

"I've never hit anybody before," said Lorelai in an equally upbeat voice.

"Well you did a bang up job of it. No pun intended."

"You must think I'm a real moron."

"No, I'm flattered. Honest. It's not going to be an everyday thing is it? Cos I don't like the idea of you knocking my mom out if she kisses me."

"Truly a once off thing. I swear! My nails will thank me," she said cradling her right hand. "Besides, I didn't hit her. She ran into my fist."

Luke took her injured hand in his and placed a kiss on each knuckle.

"I think she ran into my other hand too," she said offering it to him.

He repeated the deed on the enantiomer.

"She got me on the lip. . ."

He smiled and leaned in.

"No, wait!" she said, blocking his lips with her palm.

"What?"

"Metallica or the Offspring?"

"What?"

"You heard me. Pick one."

"Well . . .Metallica."

"Good choice." She yanked him in by her shirt collar and planted one.

"That was nice," said Luke in a breathless voice. "Is that the secret password? I have to say Metallica before I can kiss you? If that's the case, Metallica, Metallica, Metallica!" He pulled her in for one earth-shattering kiss that left them both weak at the knees and wanting more.

"You still owe me two," Lorelai pointed out.

Luke pulled Lorelai aside as they reached her front door.

"Just for curiosity's sake, what would have happened if I said the Offspring?"

"I would have ended it then and there."

"Hmmm." He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels. "I made a good choice then."

"That you did."

There was an awkward silence.

"So, I'll see you tomorrow?" Lorelai asked.

"I'll put aside a pot for you."

"I'm starting to see the perks of dating the coffee-guy."

"Only just starting?" he prompted.

She took the bait and gave him one last kiss before entering the house.

"Well this is something new," she said loudly as she found Rory and Tristan kissing on the sofa.

AN: Okay, so that was a L/L chapter (in case you couldn't tell). I hope all the Trorys still read it. The next one is Trory, I promise. You wanna know how I know? Cos it's written already. That's right. Aim for the sky, reviewers. ie 95 = chapter 12. I'm gonna spend the afterlife in purgatory for this.

Sorry, the chapter was so short. It takes after it's author I guess.


	12. The Friendship Ring

Rory and Tristan broke apart quickly, at the sound of Lorelai's voice.

"Mom! You're home!"

"That I am. And so is Tristan. Still," said Lorelai eyeing a certain guilty-looking blonde.

"I can explain . . ." Rory started.

"Chill, Ror! It's cool. I mean, I'm with it. I'm happening. I can dig. I'll leave you two alone to say goodnight, shall I?" She gave Tristan a wink before ascending the stairs.

"So . . ." Tristan said.

"So . . ." Rory echoed.

"Chilton tomorrow, huh?"

"Yeah. Chilton."  
"Ror, I wanted to give you something." He fished around in his pocket and produced a small box. "And I want you to know that I would have given you this, even if you said no." He opened the box to reveal a thin white gold band with a sapphire engraved into it. "It's a friendship ring," he explained, as he took it from its box and slipped it on Rory's protesting finger. He knew what she was protesting about. "It's sterling silver," he lied. Rory stopped protesting and slipped her arms around his neck, in a tight hug.

"Thank you. This . . .it means a lot that you would have given it regardless."

"Well, whatever the future holds, I want you to always know that this ring will symbolise our endearing friendship."

*I sound like a Hallmark*

She looked up at him and smiled. "Sweet!"

He reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She felt a pleasant tingle running down the length of her spine as he ran his finger along the curve of her ear and along her jaw.

He gave her one last kiss before saying goodnight and returning to Hartford, counting down the hours until he would see her again.

AN: All you Trorys are saying, "Is that it? That's what I reviewed 95 times for?" All I have to say in my defence is I like things short and sweet. And it's my story. So there! [pokes out her tongue]

Hint: It's very hard to type when my arms are crossed in insolence. So don't be mad, and then I'll be able to type faster, ok?

I should make those half-a-sentence-reviews count as 0.1 of a review. Once there are ten of those they will accumulate and count as one review. But that'll take ages and I'll never finish posting my story.

Okay 102 reviews = chapter 13 (is that what I'm up to? I've lost count)

2nd AN: Okay, just checked my reviews. LOL you guys are great. As your reward (and since u've already achieved the 102 goal that I set when I wrote the 1st AN) I'm giving u the next chap too. Aren't I nice?


	13. Epilogue

Epilogue

The weeks turned into months, and suddenly it was spring. Luke and Lorelai had been to every karaoke bar in Connecticut and Lorelai had finally hit a baseball. Okay, so the bat actually flew farther than the ball, but that's beside the point. It was immediately after this historic feat that Luke got down on bended knee, in the dirt and all, and took Lorelai's hand.

"Love of my life, whaddya say? Marry me?" he asked in typical Luke style.

"Heck yeah!" came Lorelai's typically Lorelaiey response.

They were married by the end of spring and danced their wedding dance to Metallica. For their honeymoon they went to New York City where they ran amok in block after block of karaoke clubs.

What happened to Tristan and Rory? Read on.

"_This is the final call for flight TG982, non stop to Paris, France_."

"I don't want you to go," Rory whispered as they stood at the departure gate.

Tristan put his hands on either side of Rory's face and made her look at him.

"I understand, but I can't help wanting you to stay," Rory went on, tears falling down her face. Tristan used his thumbs to wipe them away. He rested his forehead against hers and took a deep, shaking breath.

"I know. But I'll stay in touch. The year will pass and I'll be back before you know it." He kissed her forehead and looked deep into her eyes. "I _will_ come back." 

All of a sudden she found that another ring had settled next to the one she already wore. This one was platinum and held a diamond.

"This is a promise ring," he said. "I _promise_ that I'll come back for you. It's a cubic zirconia," he said as she took in the size of the diamond.

"Yeah right! Don't let the last thing you say to me be a lie."

"Okay. One day I'd like to put another ring on that finger. And that's no lie," he said.

"Excuse me, sir. I can't hold off the plane any longer," said the lady at the ticket station. She gave Rory a sympathetic smile.

"I'll call you when I arrive," Tristan said. He gave her one last sweet, lingering kiss.

"Now I need you to promise _me_ one thing," Tristan requested.

"Anything."

"Don't forget me."

Rory looked on as the love of her life walked away from her. "I won't. I promise."

_I will remember you,_

_Will you remember me?_

_Don't let your life pass you by,_

_Weep not for the memories._

THE END

AN: Okay, in a perfect world, this story would be an actual episode and the song would play as the credits rolled by. It'd be the season finale so there'd be no commercial between the final scene and the credits (you know the ad I'm talking about: 'Next week on the Gilmore Girls…') Oh, and there's also no voice over saying 'That was the final episode in this series of the Gilmore Girls. Tune in next week for…'

Song by Sarah McLachlan 'I will remember you.'

This song is one of my favs and it suits the story well.

_I'm so afraid to love you, but more afraid to lose._

_Clinging to a past that doesn't let me choose._

_Once there was a darkness,_

_Deep and endless night._

_You gave me everything you had_

_Oh, you gave me light_

It's a beautiful song, don't you think?

Okay, continue to read my final authors note. . . [sniff sniff]


End file.
